


Cupcake

by nachttour



Series: The Dad Who Lived [3]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures, MSPA
Genre: Dadzee, M/M, May-December Romance, Multi, Xeno, paleporn, use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachttour/pseuds/nachttour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exploration of Dad and Gamzee's relationship within the Dad Who Lived Universe. Careful folk. This also is a kissing movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupcake

Cupcake  
Nachttour 2012

 

Nine sweeps is a hard age. Observing the cracks in the ceiling and the pile of angry, aching troll wedged into the corner of his couch and occupying the rest of it with the sheer reach of his knees, Dad was at an impasse as to how to proceed. 

Gamzee and the rest of the Alternian kids were nineteen-ish if he adjusted for sweeps. John, almost twenty, had filled into an adult body like some sort of Greek champion; his arms alone intimidating-- what with all the hammer wielding he did. Similar to his progeny, his trolls also had grown. Mostly upward. The thing that Dad failed to realize about nine sweeps for his adopted family, was that the trolls would be hitting their adult heights and configurations. The warm-blooded ones fully mature, and the cooler-blooded beginning to settle. This meant seven-foot-three Gamzee. With horns he was almost eight feet tall and dwarfed everyone in the house. Were it not for his disinclination to do much in the way of physical activity, he too would have filled out. Karkat fit adorably under his chin and fought anyone that had anything to say about it. 

Bemusedly, Dad had told John that he would have made a stellar basketball player. John had come back with the answer that maybe so; but one would first have to motivate Gamzee to move that fast. When they considered it together, their shared conclusion was that they did not -want- to give Gamzee a reason to move very fast at all. The kid could flashstep like a Strider and possessed a reach like a gray-purple spider, all long arms and long legs. 

Squaring his shoulders back and finding every once of mangrit that he could locate within his ribs, Dad advanced on the pile of surly teenager, standing toe-to-toe and looking down at him levelly. 

“So. Gamzee.” 

“'sup motherfucker?” 

“Mind if I sit down with you?” 

“It's your hive so you are up and able to do whatever you motherfucking please, ain'tcha?” 

“That's not the reason that I asked.” 

“No. I 'spect that ain't.” 

“Then?” 

“Bring your creaking self down here, old man. Get your sit on in my proximity. ” 

Old man. Dad inwardly winced, but could not deny the title. Flirting with sixty; and in the greatest shape of his life thanks to the game. As if training for an iron-man event he had been viciously active; running, leaping, climbing, and living fully. Still, his arms and shoulders ached and would not cease even with massage or a carefully applied ice-pack. Lying down at night, his back would seize as if someone impaled his muscles and decided to knot them. Walking down the halls without other noise, soft pops and clicks accompanied him and announced his presence. This was natural, and some of it had started when he was in his thirties. When existence was formed out of flesh, bone, and tendon, there was an expiration date. 

Arranging himself at Gamzee's side, removing his fedora, Dad kept his gaze forward. Over the years he had been an astute study of the kids. Their moods, their needs, varied reactions and interactions with the rest of the group, the understanding and observation thereof was his masterwork. The trolls were his minor, in the college of parenting. Unfortunately he was not doing so well in that arena. Chatting over Pesterchum, he, Bro, and Ms. Lalonde would compare notes and discuss how best to look after their charges. None of them had anything particularly insightful to offer to the troll issue. Best to sit back and see how it played out and duck when the furniture began to fly. 

Soft background noises filled up the silence. A few doors down in the kitchen Casey was rummaging for some of the fresh produce out of the renamed thermal hull. She was a bit of a watercress fiend, and Dad ensured that there was always a portion in the crisper. John and Sollux were ensconced upstairs playing with the dev-kit for the game itself and seeing if they could make heads or tails of it. 

How they had come into possession of that particular software in and of itself was a mystery-- Dad did not bother to ask about it. Really, software that could make or unmake reality was not something that he wanted to toy with, it seemed like it might break his brain. However, his children and their lovers were gods. And if there were any set of beings eminently qualified to make or unmake reality at a whim, it was a pantheon of gods. 

Karkat was out in LOPAH finishing a puzzle to see if there was anything useful left in the labyrinths of his world. That left Gamzee, sitting in the main living room, having punched a hole in the wall dangerously close to one of the load-bearing struts. 

The quiet stretched out for a long time. Dad made no attempt to break it. Gamzee was a strange combination of very airy (stoned if Dad was honest with himself), or furiously reserved with an emphasis on the furious. The pendulum had swung over to furious. The flavor of moment was cold fury, rather than sudden house-strife; the cause, the million dollar question. 

Too wound-up to stay still, Gamzee reached over and took one of Dad's hands, running a plaster-speckled claw over the lines in his palm. The riotous curls of his hair had grown out and often hid his face, Dad wondered whether or not that was intentional. In the fleeting moments when he caught a glance of Gamzee without paint on, there were a heavy set of scars over the bridge of his nose and his eyes. While no one had ever talked about those, Dad could not help but consider that the indigo might be ashamed of them. It was idle supposition one way or the other until he had the truth of it.

Letting Gamzee trace the lifeline of his hand, Dad waited. It was not the right time to talk. Nor was it the time to play. If things were a little different, he might pull out a card trick, or a joke. Out of the trolls, Gamzee had a gorgeous laugh – loud, snorty, honest, and abrasive. Sometimes he honked. From the group he also seemed the most willing to completely bust-up openly and belly-laugh. 

The taut line of his mouth assured that there would be no laughter. Watching the finger interacting with his palm Dad could see the subtle colorful stains around his nail-bed and did not know what to do about it. There were no markers in the house, and troll blood came in about every color of the visible human spectrum. Presumably others as well. 

“Your skin is so thin, brother.” Dad did not allow himself to tense, but he started paying more active attention to Gamzee. The shifting up-and-down lilt of his voice meant violence, and Karkat was nowhere to be seen. With no intention on involving John or Sollux in the moment, Dad simply nodded. “It is true. I stumble across that fact myself sometimes. I'll catch myself with a knife or even the edge of paper. And it splits. Surprises me every time. I think all of us like to imagine that we're a little invincible.” 

“I seen that. Your blood is the most heretical, 'n comes leaping out of you like it wants to be rid of you. Bad construction.” 

Dad took a chance, closing his fingers around the one touching him, drawing the rest of Gamzee's hand over and enclosing it between his own. Encountering no reaction for it, he traced fingertips over the topography of his knuckles, cresting over the peaks and gently pressing into the valleys. Sneaking a glance out of the corner of his eye, the set of Gamzee's mouth relaxed from solemn to a more neutral position. This was better, tentatively. 

“Would you be willing to help me with a new recipe I found?” 

“You ain't my diamond, brother. I don't need coddling n' pappin'. Not from your creaky ass.” 

Making sure not to visibly grit his teeth, Dad pressed on. “I don't mean to be step into Karkat's shoes. I required assistance. It is more fun to bake with a partner than by yourself. Similarly it is more fun to make food for others, rather than yourself. If you don't want to, that's all right. I will recruit some salamanders.” 

The room spun, and Dad worked to reorient himself as Gamzee took his face in his hands and stared directly into it, eyes narrowed. “I taste lies brother. That statement was a bit sour.” 

Dad smiled, meeting his gaze without so much as a flinch. “I like your help. I do have salamanders. And you are in a foul mood, and more than likely do not want to talk to me about it. There is a buffet of truth. Now let go of me. I do not like to be manhandled.” The larger that Gamzee got, the more that Dad relied on the tone of his voice and body language to handle their encounters. That and the vain hope that Gamzee respected his space. There was no generational-respect in Alternian society. Only strength and fear. 

Gamzee chose to release him, watching him through lidded eyes, the heavy silence falling between them again. Dad rose, straightened himself out and set his fedora between the trolls high-arching horns. Making his way into the kitchen he kept his back as straight as possible, hoping that his joints would not be quite so loud. 

* * * 

Long arms settled themselves over his shoulders and a nose found its way into his hair, settled near the thinning patch he preferred to ignore. The arms shuffled and folded around him. 

“Don't be angry with me. 'M all up and having a heinous bad time. Thinkpan 's full of slurs and shouting n' can't get my bearings. Want to. But I can't. 's like spinning too fast and no way is uplike.” There was a small pause, then in the softer tone, Gamzee continued. “Want my Karbro.” Dad felt the motion of Gamzee's lips in his hair and the soft puff of tepid air as the troll spoke. Even after years it was still strange to realize that some trolls had different body temperatures. He took for granted homeostasis at approximately ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit as the norm. Wiping his hands on a dishtowel he brought them up, gently squeezing Gamzee's wrists.

“He'll be home soon. And I'm not angry with you. I would have been very upset if you brought part of the house down. There is a reason that there is a no violence in the house rule. The architecture in this place is insane, as it was in fact completed by teenager. I don't know if it is structurally sound either. If you knock out the foundations it's going to come down on top of us. And we will all have a furiously bad time.” 

What went without saying is that he and Sollux would die for keeps, if things were dangerous enough. As his understanding of the game deepened, so did the concept of his own mortality. He and the others that cared for the kids had not actually played the game. He was not supposed to be here. The same glitch that had contributed to their doomed and null game also had allowed his continued survival. 

Gamzee rubbed his cheek against his hair absently and Dad knew that he would have to scrub paint out of it later. “That's bad business, my brother. Don't want you to be up and disappearing into the silence just yet. Ain't the place for you.” 

Dad reached out and started measuring flour into a bowl, unhurried. Gamzee settled himself more firmly along his back, a boy-shaped cloak. Dad failed to chastise him for his lack of involvement. 

* * * 

When the fight broke out, Dad was out on LOWAS. The reasoning escaped him when thinking back to it. What he knew with full clarity upon approaching his house was that several someones felt like breaking the rules. Flashes of light inside indicated that Sollux was one of the combatants. 

Advancing up the driveway, one of the front windows on the ground floor blew out in a shower of glass and plaster. Nabbing an umbrella out of his modus and moving quickly through it so that the shards would not have a chance to pierce the material, he pushed forward to the house. What used to be the living room was a war zone. Shredded pillows with their innards leaking out like intestines lay strewn everywhere. The couch that had so faithfully served them was cut in half, pitifully singed. In the middle of this, Sollux hovered, eyes shimmering and hands up defensively while Gamzee advanced slowly, clubs out and feet bare, leaving purple smudges in the broken glass. 

Without considering what he was doing Dad stepped forward, umbrella pointed outward like a cane. 

“GAMZEE MAKARA AND SOLLUX CAPTOR WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE MEDIUM DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!” 

Both combatants paused, not turning away from each-other but briefly distracted. Taking advantage of the fact Dad strode in, getting in-between them and staring Gamzee down. The same little voice that let him know when John had filched food out of the fridge or 'borrowed' one of his good hats for a stuffed rabbit or an adventure informed him that Gamzee was the instigator in this situation. That same voice also informed him that he was going to have to man-the-fuck-up on this one or they would go down an avenue that he did not wish to. 

e“I am waiting for an answer.” Back ramrod straight. Hands clasped into fists at his sides. Stare up at him as if the foot of height difference did not matter. It could not matter. Swaying foot-to-foot Gamzee stared him down, eyes tinted red-ish from what Dad assumed to be a face-strike or an anger-reaction. In all of his time with Gamzee, he had never seen the troll look quite like that. The glass underfoot shifted wetly, the sound made Dad's teeth hurt. 

“This,” Gamzee murmured, “AIN'T NONE OF YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BUSINESS. STEP YOURSELF RIGHT OUT OF MY SPACE.” 

“This is my -home-. When you are in my home you abide by my rules. I do not care who began this altercation, I care to see it finished this very instant. Captchalogue your clubs, take a walk and do whatever it is that you need to do to calm down. I will be asking Mr. Captor to return to LOHAC as well.” 

Leaning down and forward, horns angled like lances, Gamzee sneered at him teeth bared. “And what'choo think, little man, that you are going to do about it?” 

Do not. Back down. Staring directly into Gamzee's eyes, Dad enunciated every word like a strike. “What is necessary. Calm yourself. If you do not, you will leave and not come back. You will not be welcome here any longer. You have until I count to ten to make your decision.” Stepping forward, Dad reached out and took the handle of Gamzee's nearest club. 

“One.” 

Staring at him in a manner of incredulity reminiscent of the way that Karkat had when they first met, Gamzee let the club slip out of his fingers, hissing under his breath. “Are... you... serious right now, is this really happening?” A note of angry hysteria colored his tone. “What purpose in your alien thinkpan does this counting shit serve?” 

“Two. Sollux I would like you to leave please. We will talk about this later.” The pressure changed in the room as the psiionic departed through the kitchen, opening and closing the door in silence. Dad thanked himself internally for small mercies and kept himself physically between Gamzee and Sollux's point of exit. 

“Three.” 

Clearly frustrated, a purple flush tinting his ears and his cheeks Gamzee clenched and unclenched his free hand, nails biting into his palm and furthering the blood-mess on the floor. Half-raising his hands only to drop them again he seemed riveted to his spot on the floor. 

“Four.” 

“FUCK YOU. FUCK EVERYTHING IN THIS HOUSE. FUCK YOUR 'SON', FUCK YOUR GODDAMN PASTRIES ALL OVER THE PLACE, FUCK YOUR CONDESCENDING GODDAMN TONE, FUCK HOW SHORT YOU ARE, MOTHERFUCKER DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE MESSING WIT-” 

“Do not. Yell.” Dad wondered if he were suicidal. Pressing his forefinger against the blood and saliva-slick surface of Gamzee's mouth as the troll had leaned down to yell in his face, he wondered if this was the day that he would die. Gamzee's face was a strange combination of amusement and white-hot fury. 

“Aight, motherfucker. I will be whispersoft like some tiny little cheesebeast.” Dropping his other club heavily on the floor, not bothering to re-captchalogue it, Gamzee turned. Wincing, Dad suppressed the urge to reach out and stop him from stepping further in the glass. It was not the time to be pale. One wrong move and he could almost guarantee that his skull was getting caved in. “Don't come back 'till you can avoid picking fights.” Voice cold like the winters he and John had spent together on earth, hard like the steel that formed the skeletons of buildings. Hard enough to support his threats. Threats that he absolutely could not back up with physical violence or game-wizardry. Gamzee walked out the door and slammed it so hard that the frame splintered. Finally giving in to the urge to shake violently Dad huffed, not quite able to catch his breath and the adrenaline hitting him all at once. 

A few floors up there was an electrical snap as someone arrived via transportalizer. John came bounding down the stairs-- half-skipping flights as he made it to ground floor. Dad caught flashes of the blue of his god-tier jams in between the slats of innumerable banisters. 

“DAD!” 

Adjusting his hat automatically, he slid his shaking hands into his pants-pockets, clearing his throat so that it would not come out trembling. “John.” 

“Dad what the heck happened?! Sollux just pinged me saying that bad things were going down at home and-”

“Gamzee.” That really about summarized it. 

“He and Sollux were engaged in a disagreement of some sort. They decided that the 'no fighting in the house' rule was something that was negotiable. I told them both to leave. If you would not mind, could you please contact Miss Harley to patch up the building? I believe that we have the grist to spare and I am concerned about the upper-most floors becoming too heavy with the foundations in their current state.” 

Honestly, being in the house surrounded by broken glass, blood and the creaking of drywall was hitting every 'panic' feeling he had. “In fact, let's go outside, what say? I assume that Karkat is not currently home. Also, please head up and send the consorts to LOWAS.” 

Usually John would have something to say about all of that; instead, he turned to begin clearing the building, flitting from floor to floor and bypassing the stairs entirely. Stepping outside onto the porch, Dad leaned against the railing and pulled his hat down over his eyes. 

* * * 

A few hours later, surrounded by the sounds of construction, Dad left the slime-ghost ride where he had settled himself and went searching for Gamzee. Unaware of whether or not the object of his search had god-tiered, Dad was not sure where his range of motion ended. One could only rock back and forth so many times before conscience was louder than the desire for empty movements. 

Following the trail of randomly broken things, Dad glanced up into one of the trees Jade had thoughtfully landscaped the yard with, to find Gamzee dangling like a cat who wanted nothing to do with the world beneath. Draped along it, his legs hung down in a set of gentle curves. Stopping bellow him Dad stretched upward, brushing fingers over the intact part of the nearest foot. “You calmer now?” 

No response. Dad had not expected one. 

“Think you might want to come down? If you don't, I'll come up there.” 

“Stay out of my tree.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Leaning against the trunk, Dad waited, not sure how to salvage the situation. In all of their interactions previous Gamzee never had been quite so angry. There was a difference between the flashes of rage and murderous intent. Whatever had prompted that argument it escalated too quickly. Returning to his previous spot and fishing a handkerchief out of a back pocket he went about removing glass-shards from Gamzee's skin. Their presence bothered him. “Don't these hurt?” 

Leaves overhead whispered as the troll shifted, his toes flexing in what Dad assumed to be discomfort. 

“Would it be all right if I got John to float you back inside? The house is almost done and I'm going to get the glass out of your feet. Unless you would prefer that Karkat do that.” A grunt. Not a negation. Good enough. Retrieving John was quick business and shortly thereafter, Gamzee sat settled on Dad's bed. Seeming out of place among the neutrals and clean lines of the room the troll observed him with ripped up hands and feet folded up close. 

“May I see your hands please?” Settling his hat onto a peg Dad disappeared into the bathroom, pulling out a first-aid kit. Returning, he found Gamzee picking at the smaller shards embedded in his skin, flicking them out an open window. The troll offered his hands without comment - Dad got to the business of cleaning and gauze. Hands accomplished, with split knuckles and nail-gouged palms sanitized, he knelt down to the level of the bed. Cracking loudly at the motion, his knees protested the sudden altitude change. 

The introduction of Gamzee's low voice into the silence was shocking. “You're so fragile, brother, but you don't care, do ya?” 

Resting a hand along the sharp curve of the nearest ankle – when had he gotten this thin? – Dad took tweezers out and went to work on the remaining shards. “There is no use in caring about things that one cannot change, is there? Not when the fact is truly and completely unchangeable. Why do you focus so much on that facet of me?” 

“You up and surprise me. I seen trolls that would piss themselves jus' from me being up and around, not even when I got my rage on. And you do not give a shit. Not a single goddamn one.” 

“I'm not scared of you.” 

“Liar.” 

“I trust that you wouldn't hurt me. Because we are friends. I cannot speak for you, but I care a great deal about you.” 

Gamzee's weight shifted, and when Dad looked up again he found the troll looking at him from where his face was cupped in his bandaged hands. “Why would you up and do something like that, Mr. Egbert?” 

“Why didn't you break my neck a little while ago?” 

Silence fell again. Glass slowly accumulated in a violet-tinted pile. 

Gamzee lay back on the bed, hair spread around him like a corona, face paint splattered with purple and touches of yellow. Turning his face into the curve of his arm the troll seemed to close off. “Would you like me to get Karkat?” This moment seemed very private to be sharing with someone who was not his diamond and Dad was unsure what to do with it. 

“Stay.” The word was so soft that Dad struggled to catch it. “Stay if you want brother. If you don't, go. I'll up and finish things here myself. Just.... want to get my settle on – bones are tired.” 

Being an adult meant sometimes taking chances that would not go well in the end. It also meant finding empathy in situations that were normally outside of the realm of usual experience. Easing up carefully after finishing the bandages, Dad crawled on the bed with Gamzee, brushing a hand through his hair. “How did your lusus take care of you?” 

A snort, not the cute kind that Dad liked; instead angry and a little sad. “Fellow had a wandering soul. Weren't much acquainted with each-other. Took care of myself.” 

That explained a few things. Also, he had quite inadvertently stepped in it. “How do you take care of yourself, then? You are missing a diamond and I will have to be a poor substitute until he comes home.” 

Continuing his gentle pets he applied his nails to Gamzee's scalp--remembering being young and the few girlfriends he had enjoyed time with. A couple of them had run their hands through his hair. After a long day, there was no comparison. The noise that came out of the young troll was one he had heard described by John but never personally encountered. Gravelly, low, more heard than felt, Gamzee purred at him. It was a beautiful sound. 

Suddenly recalling that he had been asked a question, the young man slid heavy-lidded eyes over to focus on him. “Have a pie,” he answered thickly, “read some... 'f 's bad face-plant into the sopor n' pass out. 's not good for you, but sometimes I upped the concentration beyond the 'red' limit that they have on the packaging. Didn't hurt me none. Try not to do that too much though.” 

Dad eased himself down onto his side, facing him. “Well, I'm not going to overdose you on sleeping medication. What do you need to feel settled?” 

Gamzee chewed on his bottom lip, pupils blown out and focused somewhere near the gate floating miles above their heads. Intermittently he purred, other times stopping to breathe in deeply, not quite a sigh. “Dunno. Like it when Karbro folds hisself 'round me. Barely works, boy's made outta twine 'n fury. But I like it.” 

The path was clear. Reaching across the space between them and drawing Gamzee against his chest, Dad adjusted until the young man was settled between the pillows and the curve of his body, smoothing a hand along his side. Unfortunately, Gamzee was taller, but his knees were tucked up close, and it was a fair approximation of a cuddle. “Everyone likes to be held, when it is someone that's okay. Is this okay for you?” 

Instead of answering, the troll butted his face against Dad's sternum, wiggling until he had effectively folded every limb around him in some way. Something was going on that Dad was missing. They were close as a pair of individuals but Dad had always chalked that up to inter-species shenanigans and youth. Maybe he had been missing something important. “Gamzee?” Arms tightened around him and he was briefly overwhelmed by the chemical-sweet scent of Faygo and an under-note of blood. 

“Comfy as anything, brother. You just say the word into these whisperducts and tell me when I gotta be moving.” Gamzee mouthed it against his neck in a tone full of reverence. Settling his arms along his back and hugging loosely, Dad assessed the situation. Theoretically he was the one that was supposed to have greater emotional maturity and more experience. “Gamzee, can we uh... jam? I think is the word?” 

“Mmm. Lay your feelings on me, I will get my listen on.” 

Rubbing small circles on Gamzee's back, targeting a knot that he found, Dad shook his head. “I would like to talk about your feelings, if you are amiable.” 

Gamzee huffed, eyebrows knotted into a quizzical expression. “You really, really want to get up in my diamond business, don'cha?” 

“I care.” 

“Ask your questions. I will answer 'cuz you are my human 'friend'.” 

“Uh... well, I didn't think this out too well. How are your quadrants?” 

Snorting, Gamzee looped an arm around his shoulders once more, settling. “Holding steady at a fourth, fucker. 's some truth. No pitch. No flush. Dun' auspice for no one. Got my diamond. Prize of my life. Do not deserve him for a second. So pale for him that I would fight Drones barehanded and bleeding 'fore I let 'em near him.” 

Dad considered the hand-drawn picture that Karkat had been so helpful to do for him when Terezi's explanation had not cleared all his confusion. “Do you have anyone in mind for your your spade or heart?” 

Easing back a bit, Gamzee watched Dad quizzically. “You don't see a line out the door to pail me, do you brother? You ask weird questions.” There was an evasion there that was telling. 

“That's not the question I asked though. Do -you- have anyone in mind?” 

Gamzee nuzzled his face into Dad's pillow, apparently fascinated with the texture. “Maybe. Had someone I wanted in my flushed quadrant but along came a bitch of a spider. 'f my wicked sister hadn't dealt with her, would have crushed the trash's head in between my hands.” Dad should have been disturbed by the way that Gamzee's sharp teeth flashed as he spoke, but the fear would not rise. If it were someone that the troll had loved, or wanted to love, it followed that he still felt passionate about the subject. 

“What about now? I know the options are somewhat limited...” That was kind of rude. Eesh, good job Egbert, batting a thousand.

Peeking at him from the pillow, Gamzee let out a long-suffering sigh. “You gonna make a boy up and spill his heart out to you? Would have made an excellent tyrian. Spine's made out of metal and voice out of knives.” 

Oh. 

OH. 

“You are saying that you have flushed inclinations toward me?” 

“You said it, brother. Feelings are blush like the 'rose-bushes' outside or whatever those velvety-soft decorative plants are.”

“So you are saying that you would like me as a matespirit.” 

The light in Gamzee's eyes was returning and a smile teased at the corner of his lips. “No, brother, I don't. Up and settled in close like a purrbeast, let you boss me 'round like you have some right to it for no reason at all.” 

Sure the fact he was -utterly- gobsmacked was plastered on his face, Dad arched an eyebrow at him. “Why?” Usually he would have more tact, he would have something more intelligent to say, but the sheer incongruousness of the situation stole his words. His troll companion seemed to suffer no such problems. 

“'s cus you're strong. Doesn't matter that you're falling 'part and your bones made of matchsticks. Shit needs to be done and you do it. You and Karbo are like that – you see other people's messes and you up and clean 'em even when it's none of your business. You're so pale for all of us, for no reason. I can't see what it is that you get from it. Still, you take motherfuckin' care.” 

Waving a hand lazily in front of Dad's face, flashing his bandages, Gamzee grinned. “You deal with my ass, 'n it isn't 'cuz you have to. I feel like... you want to keep me in check, you want me balanced like Karbro does. But... 's not like I feel with him. I want to kiss your creaky self. Ain't never felt like that before. Think you would be a good person to show me how to be loved.” The last part of the statement was soft, and Dad caught the hint of another half-buried truth. 

“Gamzee, have you had a lover before?” 

Closing his eyes, Gamzee shook his head. “Mmm-mm. Never quite got 'round to it. We left 'fore I had ever quite got my mack on.” 

Dad was struck through with pity. Poor boy. Nineteen and never been kissed. Head spinning and a little dizzy he took stock of his own emotions. He and Miss Lalonde remained excellent friends and intermittent lovers. However, he did not know how to help her with the demons that pushed her to drink and he was not equipped to be near her and deal with it. In that regard, he was a coward. Now there was a beautiful and violent young man laying across from him in bed; watching him like it was all going to be some sort of strange joke or misunderstanding. Or like he expected to be the butt of some particularly nasty joke. 

Underneath all of the logic, all of the manners that he wrapped himself in tightly, Dad admitted to himself that Gamzee had a beautiful smile, because he had a beautiful mouth. It would be amazing to hold him close and figure out the puzzle of where their bodies fit together. It would be a pleasure to make him laugh while their bare feet were tangled up in the sheets. Those thoughts alone were enough to confirm what would happen next. 

Continuing on the evening's theme of bravery he reached forward, holding the indigo's face and kissing Gamzee deeply--tasting sugar and blood. The troll made a soft, needy noise in the back of his throat, wrapping tightly around him and returning the gesture like an enthused puppy. Breaking free Dad kissed his nose, cheeks, and his forehead, trying to ignore the taste of grease-paint and failing. “Gamzee. My sweet boy. Can I clean you up a little? There's blood all over your face.” 

Mouth half-open and eyes fever bright, the troll nevertheless radiated discomfort. “Dunno... maybe... if you cut the lights that would be fine.” Dad rose, and retrieved a warm washcloth from the bathroom, turning off lights while returning, save one of the small desk lamps which more provided an ambient glow than proper lighting.

In the interim Gamzee had found a comfortable position on his back, a pillow held against his chest like a shield. Sitting next to him, Dad carefully drew the cloth across the planes of his cheeks and jaw, carefully scrubbing at paint and other stains. The troll wrinkled his nose, eyes scrunched closed as if he could avoid the situation simply by not seeing it. Paint cleared away, Dad regarded him for a moment. He was angular and tired, young and sublime. 

“You look so handsome.” Modulating his tone to be as warm and as kind as he felt that Gamzee deserved, Dad stroked his curls out of his face. “We'll re-paint you when the scratches on your face heal, all right?” 

Slipping hands to cover his face, Gamzee shook his head; his voice came out muffled behind the shield of his fingers. “Dunno 'bout that. Paint doesn't hurt me none. Feel all naked. It ain't right. Maybe I can leave it off a while... you gotta be up and hiding me though. Dun' feel like walking out like this.” 

Dad scruffled his curls, grinning down at him. “You're welcome to hole up in here with me. We'll let you heal. It's not a pile, but it's quiet.” 

Leaning up and bumping their faces together for another messy kiss, Gamzee grinned at him. “Aight.” 

* * * 

Dad stirred his coffee, eyes fixed vaguely on the same counters that he had stood in front of for the last twenty years. To his right Sollux sat at the table, fingers absently tapping at a screen. The game that he was playing made the palmhusk vibrate and chime at different frequenters and only occasional bee-assistance was required. Karkat bustled through the kitchen, once, twice, on his third circuit Dad cleared his throat. “Mr. Vantas? Can I get you a cup of coffee?” 

“Do I look like I need more stimulants?” Scrubbing a hand backward through his hair Karkat looked more vexed than usual. Dad had no choice but to submit to his paternal instincts. Motioning to the opposite side of the counter he retrieved his shark-fin strainer out of a drawer and portioned some loose-leaf into it, settling it into a cup of heated water shortly thereafter. Leaning on the counter and observing the red-eyed troll he got to the point quickly. With Karkat it was best not to let the silence stretch, the young man seemed to tie himself in tighter and tighter knots the longer that it went. 

“What's on your mind? You're pacing.” 

Taking the tea with an irritated look, Karkat gently tapped his nails over the ceramic edges of the mug, waiting for the tea to finish steeping. “My asshole of a moirail is on my mind. The game is on my mind. Fate of the universe. Also the exact color of your son's eyes. Take your pick as to which one is bothering me.” 

“I have a degree in John and Troll management. You could even venture that I am somewhat of a professional. I am going to hazard an educated guess and say you are worried about Gamzee.” Winking at his son's boyfriend, he palmed his own coffee, watching the cream swirl around. 

“Ding ding! We have a winner. I can't find him and we recently found some useful information for the game. But none of my oh-so-competent and helpful teammates could care less.” In the background a majestic set of two flipped birds rose as Sollux saluted Karkat from the table. Hissing at him and returning his attention to Dad, Karkat poked at the shark-fin, rocking it a bit. 

“Anything that you would like a second opinion on? I am not much help game-wise but I'm a good listener.” 

Removing the fin from the tea, Karkat set it down on a napkin. “Not right now. I found some things on Pulse and Haze, but some of the data is corrupted. Extra delight stemming from our horror-reacharound of a game. I just want to lay on my juggalo and fantasize about an effective team. Instead all I have is a horn pile. ” Karkat gave him a pointed look. “Clearly not as good.” 

Gamzee was completely correct in that they were mad for one-another. The relationship was mutually maintained and healthy. Karkat was serious enough to balance out all of Gamzee's whimsy. In turn Gamzee was silly when Karkat needed someone to haul him out of the morass of stress he perpetually marinated in. It took the combined talents of John and Gamzee both to force the young man to sleep, and coax the bruised red swathes away from his eyes.

Wrestling with whether or not it was legal to disclose his and Gamzee's flushed association yet, he erred on the side of caution and told a half-truth. “He's safe. I'm not sure where he is exactly, but I caught a glance of him this morning. He had bandages on, so I think someone took care of him. It seems to me he has a habit of going to ground when he needs to recuperate. Keep pinging him. I'm sure that he will remember to charge his palmhusk and answer.” Hesitating because even that felt uncomfortable, he continued. “If I find him, I'll redirect him to you.” Giving Karkat's forearm a squeeze, Dad took his coffee and headed up to his study. 

* * * 

Rubbing Gamzee's temples, Dad spoke softly so as not to tempt the headache he was trying to soothe away. “Karkat is worried about you. You need to talk to your moirail.” 

Slitting his eyes open, the troll sighed. “Worryin's what Karbro does best. Doesn't need to be up and doin' it all the time. Gonna break his blood-pusher.” 

Dad shrugged at him. “Talk to him, Gamzee. He loves you. You love him too. Why do you hide?” One pleasant side-effect of their mutual interest was that Gamzee was much more willing to speak. 

“I need so much, brother. I take and I take and I take from him. There's an ugly hole in my innerparts that is hungry and it never ever is full-like. No matter who I hurt, what I eat, what I break or take, it always wants more. Can't ask Karbro to fill that part of me. So I go off. The quiet tones it down to a throb.” Turning his face into Dad's palm, the young man was an effigy of peace. 

Dad would not let himself fall for the spell of contentment and the adoration that it stirred up inside of him. “Give me your palmhusk.” 

Fishing idly in a pocket, Gamzee produced the sticker-covered item, relinquishing it without protest. Noting at the small horde of ax-wielding trolls decorating the case that had been scratched and otherwise disfigured he turned his attention to browsing his modus, retrieving a charging cord he had picked up at some point from where it sat abandoned in the house. Plugging the device into an adapter, he waited as it charged. When the screen returned to an active state, messages started stacking up in the double-digits. This was not acceptable. 

Turning on his own pda he pinged Karkat. 'I found your wayward diamond. He is in my room. We all need to have a discussion.' There was no answer, solely the sound of rapid footsteps on the stairs a few floors below. 

Dad rested a hand over Gamzee's eyes, blocking out the light. The troll tilted his face into the point of contact, off-kilter smile firmly on his face. “Like your hands” he murmured. “They're warm like sittin' out when both moons are out. 's warmer. Or like curling up with Karbro.” 

“I must warn you, my sweet, we are about to have a serious jam.” 

“Oh? Word.” 

“With Karkat.”

“What?!” Dad felt the movement of Gamzee's eyelids as they snapped open. 

The door flung open and a harried red-blood stood in the space it had been. “Where. The. Fuck. Have you. BEEN?” 

Ignoring Dad completely and stalking over to the side of the bed, Karkat dropped into a squat; fixing Gamzee in a laser-focused stare, he began speaking in rapid-fire Alternian. Dad only comprehended the barest hint of the language and could only guess at the contents of the mostly one-sided discussion. Surreptitiously he removed his hand from Gamzee's eyes, remaining seated at his back with a hand lightly settled between his sharp shoulder-blades. Unfortunately he had not hit a point in the game where he possessed the muli-language comprehension that the kids enjoyed. 

The moirails spoke for a while, Karkat's face phasing through a kaleidoscope of emotion, Gamzee's going from contrite, to closed off, then tender. Reaching out he delicately papped at Karkat's cheek, sitting up on an elbow and opening his arms. Karkat bit back a response, red eyes flashing while gesticulating in sharp, contained motions. 

Gamzee eased up slowly to sit with legs folded-leaning gracefully forward to brush bandaged hands along the inside of Karkat's forearms. Eventually luring the smaller troll and pulling him in close, Gamzee began to thrum. That particular noise was completely new. It raised goosebumps along Dad's skin and caused Karkat's pupils to dilate like a blossoming drop of blood. Eyes half-shuttered, Karkat murmured intently against Gamzee's ear, tone half-nagging, half-fond. Having found zen from what Dad could surmise, he looped his arms around his diamond's shoulders. Flicking his eyes over to Dad, the young man had a strange expression on his face. “Apparently we have some pressing things to speak about.” 

Nodding in intense agreement, Dad faced the duo. “We do. I have a great deal of questions for the pair of you. We need to figure out some things as a group. I hesitate to be so forward; but, I am now indirectly part of your quadrants and I will need some help as we share a connecting person. I have no idea about etiquette.” 

Karkat eased onto the bed, jigsawing himself in close to Gamzee and settling against the headboard. Prodding at Gamzee with a toe, the taller boy collapsed sideways into his lap, horns angled carefully so that they did not gore. Lightly drawing his claws along the body of the wickedly hooked appendages, Karkat stared at Dad. Gamzee continued to thrum, appearing more languid than he had in days, a leg casually splayed out so that his ankle snuggled under Dad's leg. 

“So. You are considering Gamzee's flushed quadrant.” The weight of Karkat Vantas' full regard was heavy. Dad never realized how intent the young man could be, having only witnessed that same intensity directed at other things. 

“I am. As long as he will have me.” 

“Do you understand what that means?” 

“I am...mm... to the best of my understanding I am what in human culture we typically refer to as a lover. I am here to provide physical intimacy and support. Attachment and affection. Sex.” Saying sex out loud seemed foreign; however he had never been one to sugar-coat or skirt around issues. Tact, always necessary, did not mean an avoidance of the facts. 

Karkat was watching Gamzee as he spoke but his attention returned at the conclusion of Dad's remarks. “Yes. It appears Mr. Egbert that you are much less of an idiot than your son is. Even to this day. Some things may just not be teachable.” Huffing fondly, he continued. “You may actually possess an iota of a clue as to what the flushed quadrant is about. You and I … after a fashion are now partners. Not romantic or sexual partners, but we are in-clade as we share a partner. Our point of connection Gamzee.” 

Gamzee kissed the inside of Kakat's knee, eyes barely open. “y'make shit so serious, Karbro. Keep it simple. You 'n Daddy are in my red quadrants.” 

Karkat pinched one of his ears gently, shaking his head. “They're human. They don't understand. Not telling them does not serve you, me, or Mr. Egbert. And what the fuck is that 'Daddy' shit?” The murmured adjustment of his title sent a shock directly down Dad's spine. Goodness. Now was not the time for such things! 

Shrugging, the indigo smiled. “'s what 've been calling him in my thinkpan. Must have just slipped right on out as it felt like the right thing to say, y'know?” 

“No, I don't. You are a very, very strange boy. I don't know why I am so pale for you.” Smiling at Gamzee, Karkat caught Dad's eye, ready to continue his explanation. “As I was saying, as we both share some sort of mental-issue that draws us to this 'loon', we are a united front against his incredibly massive stupidity and equally massive temper.

Redrom when done right works in tandem. Sometimes when flushed, you are too close to an issue to be rational about it. Gamzee will talk things out with me in that case first, to get a balanced perspective from someone that loves him and is not directly involved. If he possessed a kismesis they would not be the person that he would talk to. That quadrant serves a different purpose and for the purposes of our discussion is irrelevant. If you were a troll, you would address your moirail in similar fashion. If we as diamonds are doing our job, we help to keep your relationship stable as it helps you and Gamzee remain happy. Think of me as your second string negotiator when diplomatic talks fail.” 

Karkat cleared his throat, composing his thoughts before going on. “If you as the flushed partner are doing your job, your priority is to make sure that Gamzee is satisfied and loved. You take care of a different part of his emotional life than the moirail does. This varies relationship to relationship. However, in the case of our balance, you will be dealing with the sensual side of Gamzee. John is in my heart quadrant. We provide for issues of physical wanting and emotional balance that cannot be provided by a 'best friend' figure. Sollux has a case of having a 'rail with pail, but he is a decadent twit and I have no desire to elaborate. He and his diamond are fine with it. ” 

Reaching up, Gamzee brushed a finger along Karkat's mouth. “Shoosh.” 

Karkat blinked, kissing the pad of Gamzee's finger. “Did you have something relevant to add to the conversation or are you just bored?” 

The indigo chuckled. “Nah man. You're up and flooding this jam with words. Gotta be more direct. Daddy's a simple concept kinda guy.” Rolling his eyes up to him, Gamzee nodded. “Flushed has to do the parts of me that need holding. Like we have last couple'a days. It's pale... but different. We are easy 'round each other. Lotsa trust. Let you a lot closer than I would anybody else, save Karbro. Won't tell you all my darkest shit. Don't need to bother with that and 'm not proud of it. 's not what I want from my flushed. But...I will listen if you need to talk 'bout yours. And sloppy makeouts. That about covers flushed for me.” 

Dad stifled a laugh behind a cough. Karkat gazed skyward as if asking something invisible for patience. Satisfied, Gamzee found another comfortable position in Karkat's lap. Meeting Karkat's eyes, Dad arched an eyebrow. “Well then. Anything else to add, my friend?” 

Karkat's exasperation had an edge of sweetness to it. Brushing his fingers along Gamzee's bare cheek he watched Dad very seriously. “Two things. Communicate with me. Today was good. I need to know where he is. Use your best judgment. Sometimes he needs me and he won't talk about it. I suffer no such compunction and will now pester you if I can't find him. Other times he's going to need you. Be open to him. The second big thing is ask questions. John and I learned this the hard way. I would much rather save you two the trouble of bumbling through the most awkward sex in all of paradox space. I know that I have a bit of ah-a 'vibrant' personality as John diplomatically put it, Gamzee doesn't. Dude's a weird introvert that will keep telling you he's okay until he's violent-angry. There's a lot of very surreal moments that you will stumble into with each other. Humans are very different than us.” 

Wincing as Karkat talked, Gamzee caught Dad's eye. “Dunno if I would up and say that much.” Peeking out of the corner of his eye at Karkat, he curled his lip a touch. “'m a mellow bro. Dun' need much. Keep to myself. Take care of myself. I like both you brothers. You're family. Will break bones and snuff stars out 'f it comes to it.” 

Sliding his hand through one of Gamzee's, Dad squeezed. “We love you too.” It was so foreign to say it like that. To express passion and not mean it in a platonic sense. Seemingly satisfied with their discussion, Karkat made himself more comfortable. Watching Dad from the corner of his eye, his tone was very flat. “Don't hurt him. If you do, you will not like the consequences. Everyone looses their lusus at some point. John will get over it.” 

Eesh. Putting on his most easygoing smile, Dad shook his head. “Don't worry. I do not plan to do anything other than treasure and enrich Mr. Makara's heart. No need to deploy the sickles.” Smiling back as they had reached an understanding, Karkat went to answering memos on his palmhusk. Committed to spending some time with his boyfriend and his boyfriend, Dad ruminated on his new polyamorous status and read a book. 

* * * 

Days as a lover proved to be much the same as regular days. There was the management of their household, occasional baking, even less frequent strife. Most of the imps in the area were peaceful and for the most part helpful. The bigger ogres knew better than to encroach on their space. Gamzee, much as he previously had been, was elusive. Sometimes he was close, curled up along Dad's side as he read a book, poking at his palmhusk or resting with his chin on Dad's shoulder and watching a middle distance. The rest of the time he was off in indeterminate places and Dad did not pursue him. There was a difference between hiding and requiring space. Knowing that his beau's time was divided between himself and Karkat, he did not begrudge Gamzee his privacy. 

Gradually though, he saw more of the young man, mostly in his room when it was solely the pair of them. Settled in close, the troll would listen to music, ear-buds sending murmured hints of sound; being near without actually engaging. Other times he would settle himself into Dad's lap and kiss until both of their jaws were sore and they were both aching. It was unspoken, but neither of them had made the move to sex yet; though both of them were fully of age and clearly interested.  
Dad wanted the timing to be right. The first sexual experience he had enjoyed was a furtive handjob in a borrowed car at fifteen, with a girlfriend that was not his girlfriend at the end of the same week. Unsure of Gamzee's motivations, Dad simply wanted the young man to feel special and wanted. The key to that appeared to be building intimacy first, if college and his occasional adult trysts had taught him anything. 

That intimacy gradually was developing into reality. Gamzee often napped in bed with him, reluctantly heading to a recupracoon if he had to. Dad did his best to help him manage the day-terrors, but sometimes going back to his own bed was the key. Unable to physically join him in the device, he dragged a chair into the space and dozed next to the container, holding Gamzee's hand where it dangled out of the fluid, cool within his grasp. 

Gamzee took an interest in some of Dad's pursuits, trying to bridge the cultural gap. Unexpectedly, the two of them developed a passion for chess. Their first games were hilarious, both of them ending up doubled-over the board in mirth. Later games proved interesting. Traditional strategy did not apply with Gamzee, as his logic for doing what he did made no sense that Dad could parse. Still, it was fun and a quiet thing that they could do together. 

Dad made an attempt to return the gesture, listening with a shared ear-bud in his ear while Gamzee jammed to 'slam poetry' which sounded a great deal like nineties rap. Turning to face Gamzee in the lapse of a song, Dad posed a question that had been on his mind. “Are you sure about all of this? Being flushed, I mean? I have talked to Karkat a great deal and he informed me that you will live into the triple-digits. I love you a lot, and I'm committed to our relationship. But I worry about you. I don't want you getting attached and then getting hurt.” 

Gamzee's eyes narrowed as he continued to face the ceiling. He slid a finger over his igrub to pause the music. “Mind if I tell you a story?” 

Giving Gamzee his full attention and making himself comfortable Dad assented, slipping the ear-bud into the crux of his neck and shoulder. “Sure.” 

“I knew a set of moirails. Long time 'fore I ever met you or any of the other humans. Nice motherfucking people. Set of weirdos and perfectly matched. Wicked sister and a cool brother. Little sis was a green. As you've guessed, they don't hang 'round too long. Brother was as blue as the skies on Skaia. Gonna live sweeps beyond little purr-sis. Didn't stop 'em for second. Most committed diamond I ever seen. I try to be like 'em when I don't know what to say or how to deal with Karbro. I think about how they were pale for each-other. They died same day. Neither of 'em had to be grieving. They went together. I ain't sayin' we're gonna die soon. 'm just saying that we shouldn't worry about that shit. Future has an ornery way of doing whatever the fuck it feels like. I love you. I don't want to stop loving you. Good enough for you, brother?” 

“Come over here, you sweet boy.” Shifting and pulling Gamzee close, Dad leaned in and kissed him. The gesture lingered, Gamzee sliding his arms around his back and tucking up flush. They traded kisses back and forth in the quiet, the ceiling fan lazily wheeling above them and sheets murmuring with their movements. Gamzee kissed his jaw, voice thick. “I want to pail you. er...'make love?' Been patient. Didn't want to be too fast, but my hand's getting tired y'know?” 

Dad buried a laugh in Gamzee's curls. “Sorry. Yes. I mean, I would love to have sex with you.” Drawing his tongue along the outer shell of Gamzee's ear he smiled. “Let's give that hand a rest, shall we?” 

“Fuck yeah Daddy. 's the noise I want to be up and hearing.” Gamzee ghosted teeth over Dad's neck, thrumming again. 

Feeling his pants become appreciably more tight, Dad grinned. “Have I ever told you that being called Daddy turns me on?” 

Gamzee turned and grinned up at him, eyes shining. “Well ain't that just a thing? I like calling you Daddy so that's going to work out well for the both of us, ain't it?” 

“I do think so.” 

Gamzee's body was a beautiful, alien landscape. The proportions and tone and landmarks were all different. Stripped out of his shirt, pants unbuttoned but not yet discarded, Dad surveyed his lover. Eager to touch and be close, the boy had curled himself into a semi-circle around him, oh-so-gently nipping at his neck. “Gonna have to show me how to do this. 've watched the videos that I could find, but most of 'em were the other 'gender' that you have. And the ones with 'males' didn't look like you. Dunno if 's different. Your coloring's all up n' different. You're built different than those brothers.” 

Dad smoothed Gamzee's bangs out of his eyes and kissed his face, chuckling. “When you were watching those videos? Did you see something that you wanted to try or that you liked?” 

Rolling his eyes up, Gamzee grinned, softly biting at Dad's lip. “Liked it when the partner that was putting it in held the other one down. Made me all hot. And I wanna try 'topping'? Uh...have you up and seen what we got goin' on down there? You think you're gonna.. wanna...y'know? Pail?” 

Dad flushed, turned on and slightly embarrassed. “I am very sure Gamzee. It's just a matter of logistics.” Lightly brushing his palm over his tightly tented pants, he nodded. It had been so long. He worried that he might last as long as he needed to. Still, if erection failed, he had been graced with hands, a mouth and a strong work ethic. “Why don't you show me how you work?” 

Sitting back a bit, the troll shimmied out of his pants, skipping any sort of tease or anticipation building. If Dad could say nothing else, the young man was good at following directions. That genitalia was something else, though. Something phallic-ish and gently moving sat curled up against the soft curve of the troll's abdomen. Looking down lower where there would be testes were Gamzee human there was slightly different construction. Catching Dad with a knowing look Gamzee settled forward on the bed, sitting up on his knees to kneel and present a good view. Resting a hand on Dad's shoulder, the troll spoke softly. “Outer part is 'm bulge. From what I know 's like the answer to what you're packin' down there. It moves. 's normal. Don't be scared.” 

Dad rested a single hand on Gamzee's side, brushing his thumb over the gray slashes over his ribs, steadying him. Noting that he was fiddling with the raised surface, the troll offered him a goofy little smile. “Grubscars.” Feeling slightly bad for not meeting the troll's eyes while he talked to him Dad could not help but to be transfixed by the subtle movements of the appendage. Reaching out with his free hand, Dad brushed a forefinger around the circumference of it. Gamzee whimpered low in his throat. “'s good. You can up and touch that as much as you like.” 

Voice heavy, he leaned in conspiratorially and took Dad's hand, guiding it down between the arch of his legs. Pressing the captured hand up, Gamzee leaned forward slightly, brushing the base of his bulge against Dad's palm. Dad's fingers encountered wetness that was somewhat familiar. So the trolls were dually-gendered. Gently stroking along the fold he had discovered, he brought his eyes up to find Gamzee staring him down with single-minded purpose, breath coming in slightly sharper puffs. “'s the nook. You are a smart, smart man. Think you can figure out what happens with that. Fingers go in there. Tongues go in there. Bulges. We'll have to see how yours fits. Karbro says we're built differently and we should use 'lube'. Dunno what that is. You got some?” 

Dad laughed out loud, stealing a kiss. “No. Sweetheart I don't. We'll have to alchemize it. I'm sure we will figure something out.” Quietly running his fingers in brushing motions along the edges of Gamzee, Dad continued their lesson. “Where is your favorite spot to be touched?” 

Thighs shaking and growing progressively more moist, Gamzee frowned at him. “This is not how I imagined pailing, my sweet brother.” 

Dad nipped at his shoulder, pushing his dull teeth in hard enough to make a slight change of pigment occur. At the pressure, Gamzee shuddered. “Patience, my sweet, is part of the fun. So is the anticipation.” Gamzee dipped his head forward, bonking gently into him and nuzzling. “Aight, motherfucker. Whatever you up and say.” There was a soft, warm tremor to his agreement that Dad wanted to hear over and over again. 

Carefully guiding a finger inside of Gamzee, Dad watched his face. The troll looked divine, mouth open in a soft arch.  
“Fffuuuck yeah. More of that. Please.” One more whispered plea and he was going to be done. Taking a deep breath Dad tried not to think about how the material of his shorts shifted over the raging and unattended hard on that he was sporting. Something was moving against his finger. Careful not to outwardly wince, or look disgusted, Dad pressed a quiet kiss against Gamzee's jaw. “Gamzee. Do other parts of you move independently?” 

“mmmm-hmm. My insides are happy to see you. They are up and having a party in your honor. They would love it if you added a couple more of those fine digits of yours or just your bulge to the celebration.” That was weird. Not arousal-killing weird, but weird enough that Dad fell out of his groove. Giving him a quick squeeze Dad smiled. “I think it is time for my turn at show and tell. You were kind enough to show me how you work, I think fair is fair?”

Attention suddenly beacon-like, the troll grinned back enthusiastically. “Yeah. I would up and love that. Gonna get my study on as to what's gonna make you squirm. Karbro told me that I shouldn't believe the videos I was watching because they are staged. I think that is some peculiar fucking entertainment. But whatever works. ” 

Dad carefully eased his pants off, looping his belt over the end of the bed and considered alternate options for its use later. Now was not the time for that kind of fantasizing. Just as carefully slipping out of his boxers, Dad smiled at Gamzee- very much aware of how much smaller he was than the troll and how vulnerable. “You were right about 'what I'm packing' as you put it. This is a penis. Word equivalent is a bulge I am guessing. I am not the gender that has an equivalent to your nook.” 

Gamzee reached out curiously, brushing a hand over the body of Dad's erection, visibly interested by the glide the precum allowed the motion. “You get all slippery n' ready too. It's just different.” Hissing loudly through his teeth, Dad nodded. “I do. Hah.. uhm.... Gamzee, it has been a long time 'since I've been with anyone. As such, I am rather sensitive and may not be able to maintain this too long-” Stealing a kiss, Gamzee grinned. “Then let's use what time we got. Body's singing a song with your name in it, brother.” 

In a shuffle of sheets and limbs, the troll straddled Dad's hips, bulge gently twisting and brushing along his groin like a particularly affectionate cat – all soft touches. Keeping his gaze locked with his, excited and a little nervous in equal proportion Gamzee adjusted himself, beginning the process of sliding Dad inside of him. Both partners shuddered. It was tight. It felt different and wonderful. It was -really- tight. Gamzee tucked his face against Dad's shoulder, biting at his lip. “Kinda gather Karbro's meaning.” 

Dad stroked his back and shoulders, trying to help him balance and not just give up and come—the little inside structures were gently brushing at him. “Don't push too hard. I don't want to hurt you.” Dad was not the largest man in the world, but the trolls were made for bulges and he was thick. Gamzee smirked at him. “Never cared much about pain Daddy. 's just a sign that you're livin.” In a beautifully fluid motion the indigo torqued himself down and Dad bit the inside of his own cheek, tasting a little cloud of copper. “Ohmygoodnessgracious.” 

Voice shivery and satisfied, Gamzee spoke directly against his ear, something that he felt down the entirety of his spine. “Fuck, was the word you were looking for, Daddy. Fu-uc-kk.” Finding a comfortable angle, Gamzee moved. Scarcely cognizant of his surroundings, much less what he ought to be doing, Dad grinned back at him. The fact that Gamzee knew what he wanted and was not afraid to take it soothed out an un-examined worry somewhere in the back of his mind. He liked control, but coupled with enthusiastic consent. Really, no one seemed more capable of enthusiastically consenting than Gamzee in that moment. Mouth rounded out in the gorgeous smile that he loved, throat bared, and a subtle sheen of sweat glittering across his skin, and the very curve of his spine conveying power and delight, the troll was perfect. Every soft growl and throaty little purr added to the sum total of his perfection. Desire to hold out or not, Dad was not going to last long. They would have to build up his stamina together. Threading a hand up through Gamzee's hair, he carefully grabbed the base of one of his horns rubbing his thumb across it and giving it a firm squeeze. Gamzee shuddered, giving a little whimper even as his eyes snapped open and thighs clenched.

Very suddenly his lap was very wet and Gamzee was giggling in a fit of over-stimulated nerves. “Shit. Aw fucking shit. Daddy I'm so sorry. Didn't even get a chance to tell you.” Looking down, Dad boggled slightly at the purple splashed over his legs. Looping his arms around Gamzee's waist, he looked up at his tittering lover. “Gamz. Hey. You've gotta talk to me here real quick. What's going on? You bleeding? You hurt?” Any thought of finishing had fled his mind as safety and concern flooded in. Gamzee shook his head, eyes heavy and voice thick. “Nah, nah. Nothing like that at all. You were up and perfect. Miracles. Grabbin' my horn like that got me off. Sorry. Didn't have a chance to warn you. 's just genetic material. No blood. 'm not hurt.” Kissing Dad's nose, Gamzee leered. “You finish? If you up and didn't we are fixing that.” 

Sweaty, bemused and now very stained and sticky, Dad shook his head. “It doesn't matter Gamzee. 's fine. ...Is it like that every time?” Boneless, Gamzee wound himself around Dad, nodding. “Mmmhm. You all turned off now brother?” 

Rushing to reassure him Dad shook his head. He really could be such an idiot. “No, sweet boy. Not at all. Just surprised and now excessively moist. Sex... a lot of times is kind of awkward and silly. It's like a dance. If you don't know how to dance with your partner yet, you end up stepping on their feet a lot.” 

Watching him with a sweet face, Gamzee shook his head. “I have no clue what you are up and on about brother, but it sounds miraculous. Sounds like fun.” 

Dad gently swatted his side, reluctant to separate them; but the fluid was starting to dry and become slightly tacky. “Up you go cupcake. I'm going to get myself a shower. You are more than welcome to join me. Then we are going to alchemize a new bed.” 

Sighing softly as Dad slid out of him, Gamzee watched Dad with a smile. “You're not quite set and made right for me, but we're gonna make it work. I want all of the more of that. All the time.” Looking thoughtful and looping an arm loosely around Dad's shoulder as they walked, Gamzee's suggestion was offhanded. “Maybe we could be making some of those sopor-sheets for the bed? And a bigger one? I'll be careful not to be getting all of our colors on 'em, but...I am considering that maybe I could get my leisure on with you without the daymares or my feet dangling.” 

Turning on the shower to warm rather than hot so as not to bother Gamzee, Dad slipped in and waited for his matespirit to accompany him. “I think we could make that work.” Nothing would delight him more.

* * * 

Gamzee had an exploratory soul. Dad came to understand this in the shower. In the hallway. Occasionally on the couch. In many places in their home and on LOTAM. Kissing his matespirit while flying high over a collection of lights and a seemingly endless stream of balloons drifting by them was something out of his dreams. 

Karkat was right. There were many misunderstandings. For every misunderstanding though there were moments like the first time that they waltzed. After discussing it that evening, Gamzee had asked and Dad recalled his social-dance skills. It was unexpectedly bittersweet quietly swaying in the living room to the sound of the record-player that his mother had owned. The scratched, vintage sound took him to a different place that he had not been able to return to after she died. Childhood was a door that stayed shut after the transition to adulthood. With all of the benefits, one could only catch glimpses through the cracks. 

For every fight that they had, there were equal moments of standing on the roof of the house while Prospit loomed resplendent in the sky, doing yoga. Gamzee had found the forms somewhere in the bowels of the internet. Going through it helped their balance and flexibility as a couple and allowed them quiet time without any gadgets or clade-mates. 

In every moment that Dad worried about how his sweet, angry lover would move on with his life there were strife-lessons. All of the Alternian children had lived in a militarized society. Karat, now family in more ways than one had informed Dad that he would be making use of his extensive collection of straight-razors and began teaching him hand to hand forms. It was something that alleviated a little of the tension in the back of his mind about being independent and not a burden. It also put him and Gamzee on more equal footing when it came time for them to go toe to toe. 

Living with them was beautiful. Life might be short, however Dad stood by his initial impression. Even with the realities of their world, even with how hopeless it sometimes could seem the game was a blessing and an adventure. 

He loved every moment of it.


End file.
